


The Proposition

by Inell



Series: 2017 Prompt Challenge [41]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Casual Sex, Cunnilingus, Desk Sex, F/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Multiple Orgasms, Older Woman/Younger Man, Oral Sex, Post-Graduation, Semi-Public Sex, Stiles Stilinski Has a Big Dick, Stiles Stilinski in Panties, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 20:29:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9674981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: When Stiles goes to see magical guidance from Marin Morrell, she makes him a proposition that he doesn't want to refuse.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lostwithoutmyanchor (mysourwolf)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysourwolf/gifts).



> lostwithoutmyanchor said: Yay, prompts! I would love some Marin/Stiles. Maybe Stiles going to her to ask for magic advice (because Deaton is too cryptic). In exchange she wants sexual favours. He's on board because even though he still resents her somewhat she's also hot and fascinating. (Stiles being legal please). Eating her out for hours and maybe fucking her on the desk in school where he bared his soul to her once. That would be awesome <3
> 
> First time writing this ship, but it’s one I've wanted to write for a while, so thank you for giving me the chance! I really hope you enjoy this, bb! Fic #41 in my 2017 Prompt Challenge

“I honestly didn’t think you’d ever come back here.” Stiles leans against the doorframe to the counselor’s office, watching Ms. Morrell straighten a stack of files on her desk.

“It appears that you were wrong, Stiles,” she says, looking up at him and arching a brow. “I could say the same, of course. Your graduation ceremony was two weeks ago, was it not?”

“Yeah, it was.” He looks around the empty hallway before stepping into the office. “You know, I used to think teachers had the best job because they got paid for having summers off. Then I found out that you actually get paid shit and summers off isn’t exactly true.”

“Teaching is a rewarding job for aspects other than financial,” Morrell tells him. “However, I don’t believe you’ve come to my office in the middle of June to discuss fiscal matters, have you?”

“Nope.” Stiles looks at her and feels that same buzzing under his skin that’s always accompanied a visit to her office. The way her dark eyes stare _through_ him, like she’s somehow seeing into his soul, and the way she talks to him like he’s an adult, never condescending or fake like so many other staff members at the high school.

“You’re fortunate that you managed to catch me in the office. I only intended to stop by briefly to restore order to my desk,” she says, continuing to watch him move as if she’s trying to figure out the solution to the puzzle of his behavior.

“Wasn’t sure if you’d be here or not, but Lydia’s mom mentioned they hired you back so I thought I’d take a chance.” Stiles shrugs. “Easier to try here first instead of going to the trouble of tracking down your address.”

Her lips purse slightly, and he flicks his gaze up to her eyes when he realizes he’s staring at her mouth. Not the right time for his hormones to take an interest. Her expression gives nothing away; somehow more stoic and undecipherable than her brother’s. He could have gone to Deaton, probably _should have_ gone to Deaton, but Stiles just doesn’t trust him. Morrell might be shady as fuck, too, but at least she’s honest about it. Stiles can trust that more than Deaton’s bullshit.

“I’ve known you since you were a freshman, Stiles. You’ve never chosen the easy way if there were more complicates options available,” Morrell says thoughtfully. “You thrive on making things difficult for yourself, creating challenges when none exist, feel at home surrounded by tasks that need accomplished, thrive amongst the chaos.”

“Things change,” Stiles tells her, looking out the window as her words echo in his mind. Thrive amongst the chaos is a reminder of the dark months he tries to forget. The Nogitsune controlling his life and getting off on the pain and terror that the chaos creates. Morrell had left the school before that happened, had been at Eichen when he’d been admitted, had checked on him despite not being his doctor. He remembers that, flashes of concern mixed with curiosity. Turning to face her, he sees a similar look in her eyes, only there’s something else there now, too. Something he doesn’t recognize.

“Yes, they do. People change as the situations around them create a cause and effect in their lives.” Morrell tilts her head slightly. “My brother told me what really happened last year. Did you ever speak with anyone after?”

“After what?” Stiles snorts and begins pacing. “After I was weak enough to let an evil spirit possess me? After I killed and enjoyed the pain I caused? After I couldn’t distinguish between reality and dreams until I wouldn’t dare sleep for fear I’d lose control of myself? Or maybe you mean after I was somehow split into another body while mine was used to try killing even more people?”

“If you were weak, you would not be standing before me now,” Morrell tells him bluntly. He stops pacing and stares at her. She looks into his eyes for a long, silent moment before she opens her desk drawer. The only sound is the scratch of her pen as she writes something on a Post It note. “This is the name of someone who can help. It isn’t healthy to keep things bottled in that way, Stiles. We’ve talked about that before, remember?”

“Yeah, but there are some things better left ignored,” he mutters, stepping forward to take the Post It. The name Dr. Hawke with a San Francisco area code is written in elegant curves. “Why can’t I talk to you?”

“Because you lack trust.” Morrell smiles slightly as he blinks at her. “In your mind, I betrayed your friends, betrayed you, while I was upholding the duties of my position. Neutrality is my primary goal as an emissary because it’s the only way to remain professional, but I understand that you’re too young to understand that.”

“You should have told us sooner,” Stiles agrees, shoving the Post It in the pocket of his jeans. “But you did at least try to give Scott information, and you kinda betrayed your pack by remaining neutral.”

Morrell narrows her eyes, a nerve in her cheek twitching as she stares at him. “A truly successful emissary is willing to kill, willing to die, to protect their pack. I had no such connection with my pack, unfortunately, so I never hoped to achieve success. Neutrality was the safest choice so that I could uphold my duties without putting others at risk.”

“Deaton did that with the Hales, didn’t he?” Stiles glances at the open door and walks over to shut it. There wasn’t anyone in the halls when he came into the school, the summer school classes happening in the classrooms that are nowhere near the guidance counselor’s office, but he isn’t going to take a chance. “He knew about Kate targeting Derek, but he said nothing. I don’t have any real proof, but I know it’s true. The Hales would be alive if he’d cared enough to protect them.”

“I cannot speak for my brother.” Morrell watches him closely, and Stiles stops mid-step when he notices the way she’s looking him over. It happens so quickly that he decides he’s imagining it because there’s no way she just checked him out. “I didn’t know the Hale Pack nor have I ever been particularly close enough with Alan to gain his confidence.”

“I don’t trust Deaton.” Stiles pulls the chair away from her desk and falls into it, legs sprawled and fingers already tapping at the armrest. “That’s why I decided to find you. I don’t trust you, either, but I trust you more than him anyway.”

Morrell’s eyebrow is arched, and she’s pursing her lips again. He wonders how old she is because she’s got to be older than she looks. He knows Deaton’s in his forties, so she’s got to be in her thirties, but she looks kind of like those classical statues that are ageless, like no wrinkles or grey hair or lines in her face that give a vague idea of age.

“How old are you?” he blurts out because he can’t stop himself from asking what’s on his mind.

“Is that what you came to ask me, Stiles?” Morrell’s lips twitch slightly, and he thinks maybe she’s amused, but it’s hard to tell because she gives nothing away. She must be amazing playing poker because that’s like the perfect poker face. Not the Lady Gaga kind but the cool, calm, and collected unemotional kind. It’s almost tempting to fist pump seeing an almost smile on her mouth.

“No, I was just curious.” Stiles drags his fingers through his hair. “I came to see you because I want to know about magic. Deaton said I had a spark once, but he never said anything else, and things have been kind of crazy, so I never really thought much about it. But with school being done and college in a couple of months, I realized I wanted to know more.”

“A spark,” Morrell repeats slowly. “Yes, I’ve seen it in you, but I assumed you chose not to play with magic. It can be dangerous, and a spark has a natural aptitude that can be uncontrolled.” She looks away from him, dragging her tongue over her bottom lip. “You like control, even moreso since the experience with the Nogitsune. Yes, of course. That’s why you wish to explore your abilities now.”

“Don’t get all smug thinking you have all the answers.” Stiles drums his fingers against the arm of the chair again. “So, will you help me?”

“Perhaps we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.” Morrell looks at him and smiles. It’s a predatory smile, sharp and dangerous, and Stiles shifts in his chair because, fuck, it’s kind of hot. He’s got a thing for gorgeous, powerful people with a slight edge to them, alright? There’s nothing wrong with that, and he isn’t ashamed now that he’s accepted his own kinks and likes when it comes to attraction and sex.

“Uh, what do you have in mind, Ms. Morrell?” he asks curiously, wondering what the hell he can do that’d be mutually beneficial. “Did you want me to like erase some parking tickets or something?”

“If we’re going to proceed, you should call me Marin,” she says, twisting her chair to the side so that he’s looking at her profile. “Are you currently in a relationship, Stiles?”

“What?” Stiles leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stares across the desk at her. She’s still facing the side, giving him only a profile to look at. “What’s that got to do with magic?”

“If you’d like for me to teach you how to use your spark, you’ll answer the question.”

“Whatever.” Stiles rolls his eyes. “I’m single. Lydia and I…we tried it out, the whole dating thing, but it just didn’t work right. We’re best friends, but not the kind that can become lovers, I guess. Does having a stable relationship impact the magic or something?”

“No, it alters my choice in propositions to make this worth my while.” She stands up and walks around the desk towards his chair. “Are you sexually active, Stiles?”

“Huh?” He blinks at her, fully aware that his mouth is hanging open as he gapes, but did she really just ask him that? “I…what?”

Morrell—no, she said to call her Marin—leans against the desk and studies him impassively. “Are you a virgin?”

“No, I’m not.” Stiles swallows and shifts in the chair, trying to stare at her legs because, damn, that’s a short skirt.

“Are you sexually attracted to males, females, non-gendered individuals, or any slash all of the above?” Marin’s lips twitch slightly, like she’s enjoying the fact that he’s turning red and trying not to stare at her legs and tits while she’s coolly talking about sex.

“All of the above,” he mutters, shifting in his chair and gripping his thighs hard enough that he’ll probably have bruises. “What’s all this about? You get off humiliating people wanting your help?”

“There are a great many ways that I ‘get off’, Stiles, but humiliation is not one of them.” Marin lifts herself up so she’s perched on her desk and then she spreads her legs as far as she can in the tight skirt, which isn’t far. “I’m a single woman with a healthy sexual appetite. You’re eighteen now, correct?”

“Uh yeah.” Stiles shakes his head and stares at her. “Wait. Are you saying that you want to have sex with me?”

“We’re both legal, consenting adults. You are no longer a student at Beacon Hills High, so I have no authority over you.” Marin arches a brow again and gives him a look that indicates he’s not going to be given long to make his choice. “You wish to learn about magic, and I’m willing to share my knowledge with you. Your response to my proposition doesn’t affect that, so there is no coercion involved. However, you’ve grown into yourself, Stiles, and I’d be _very_ interested in initiating a casual sexual relationship during the course of your training this summer.”

“Fuck. You _do_ want to have sex with me.” Stiles is gaping again but, really, it’s not his fault. He’s somehow wandered into a Penthouse Forum letter come to life or something, with the smoking hot and mysterious guidance counselor wanting to fuck him. While his dreams these days tend to veer more towards the nightmarish, he still looks at his hand and counts his fingers. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. All there. Looking back at her, he stares. “Seriously? With me? You’re like really hot and older and, yeah, I don’t trust you, but you could get just about any guy or girl you want. Why me?”

“Why not?” Marin slowly smiles. “You’re an attractive young man. I have needs, and I’m sure you’re extremely capable of satisfying them. Perhaps we could start with your mouth? While I’m certain your lips have made many men question their sexuality, I’m looking forward to feeling them on my bare skin.”

“Wait. You mean _now_? Like here in your office?” Stiles looks around and wonders if he should feel ashamed for the flash of arousal that he feels thinking about fucking Ms. Morrell on the desk in her office in the middle of a summer day when others are in the school.

Hello new kink.

“Enough with the questions and lack of self-esteem. You’re confident or you wouldn’t have dared face me alone to ask about magical training. The only thing that really matters right now is this: do you accept my proposition, Stiles?” Marin asks, reaching up to unbutton the top button of her blouse. “Tick, tock.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out, falling out of the chair, listening to it skid behind him as he crawls to the desk. “I accept, _Marin_. I’m going to make you scream so loud that everyone in summer classes is going to run in here to see what’s happening and they’ll find you spread out on your desk letting a former student fuck your brains out.”

“Youthful fervor is admirable, but I don’t appreciate broken promises,” Marin says, reaching down to run her fingers through his hair.

“Oh, well, that’s a promise I plan to keep,” Stiles says, feeling more confident now that he realizes she’s seriously into this, and that he’s about to bang the hot guidance counselor that boys used to talk about in the locker room. “I’m gonna start with my mouth. Then I’m going to use my fingers on you, make you come over and over for hours, until you’re begging to take my dick.”

“You would be a talker,” she mutters, tugging on his hair with a little more force than necessary. “This isn’t free porn you’re streaming at night under the covers in your childhood bed; it’s real life. Save the talking for later. I can think of a much better use for your mouth right now.”

“Bossy. I like it.” Stiles grins up at her. “You’re lucky that strong, beautiful women with a dominant streak are totally my kink.” He strokes her thighs as he talks, feeling the soft silk of stockings gliding over warm skin. “I should probably warn you that I’ve got a pretty big dick. A couple of people have balked after getting an eyeful, so I tell people now.”

“How big is ‘pretty big’?” she asks, making the quotes audible somehow.

“Uh, well, not monster porn size by any means, but definitely above average?” Stiles shrugs a shoulder as he keeps moving his hands higher up her legs. “Nearly eight inches, alright? And kinda thick.”

“Oh.” Marin licks her lips and slides a little closer to the desk’s edge. “While I appreciate the warning, it’s unnecessary. You don’t have to be overly gentle or cautious with me, Stiles. Understood?”

“Yeah, I get it.” He bites the inside of his cheek as he looks into her eyes before he looks away, staring between her legs. “Raise up for me.”

Marin lifts her hips up, and he shoves her skirt up around her waist. She’s wearing a garter belt and a skimpy pair of dark green panties that look really good on her. He doesn’t bother unclasping the stockings from the beltbecause he’s really loving the image of her wearing those and nothing else by the time he gets done. Malia hadn’t been into stockings and girly stuff like that, and Lydia hadn’t worn pantyhose during the spring and early summer when they were dating, so this is a first for him.

“Soft,” he murmurs, rubbing his face against her inner thighs before he starts licking her through her panties. There’s some lace covering the patch of wiry curls that itches his tongue, so he focuses his attention lower. He nuzzles her cunt, poking the crotch of her panties with his tongue, fucking it up inside her in a teasing way that won’t give her what she really wants.

Stiles has always had an oral fixation, so he wasn’t surprised at all to find out that he really loves giving oral sex. He can seriously spend hours licking and nuzzling a wet cunt, something he knows from experience. One day, he’s going to finally get a dick in his mouth, and that’ll be amazing, too. For now, he’s got silk and lace panties keeping him from full contact with Marin’s cunt, and he knows the teasing isn’t going to last too long because he can taste some flavor through the panties that he wants to lap up from the source. Like now.

“Oh.” Marin is quiet, but she can’t hold in the soft sigh when he tugs her panties down and nuzzles her bare cunt. Her fingers tighten in his hair, and he smiles before sucking on her inner thigh, hollowing his cheeks and sucking hard enough to leave a mark. She’ll see that for a few days, at least, and remember him between her legs every time she touches herself.

With the panties out of the way, Stiles goes to town. He licks her cunt, lapping up the wetness gathering there, deliberately avoiding her clit as he tastes and tests to see what makes the involuntary noises and what she doesn’t like as much. Soon, she’s rolling her hips, barely staying on the edge of the desk as she rubs herself against his face. He looks up to see that she’s unfastened her blouse, her bra pushed up, her tits swaying as she moves her hips, her hair falling around her face as she stares at him intensely.

He flashes a cocky smile at her, licking his lips slowly before he leans in and sucks on her clit at the same time he eases a finger inside her. Her hips snap up and her head falls back as she comes with a gasp. He keeps sucking, adding a second finger, stretching her and teasing her, stroking her through the orgasm as she shudders, not giving her time to calm down before he’s focused on another one.

After four orgasms, nearly an hour later, his mouth and lips are a bit numb, but he’s managed to break through her stoicism a little more each time she comes. She’s now moaning for him, whining even, and he’s come once in his pants without even touching his dick because she’d tightened her thighs around his head and started fucking his face until she’d got the orgasm she’d been chasing. It had turned him on so much, and he’d already been achingly hard, that it hadn’t taken more than a shift in position before the friction of his jeans against his dick had him spilling in his underwear.

Of course, that was orgasm number three, so he’s already hard again. Sticky and gross, but definitely hard. He’s aiming for number five when she pulls his hair and starts murmuring his name. “Stiles, now. Fuck me, damn it. You bratty little tease. I’m going to get you for this,” she says, voice low and husky and oozing sex in a way that makes him immediately start fumbling with the button of his jeans.

“Told you I always keep my promises,” he tells her, finally getting the damn button undone. His dick practically screams with relief when he unzips his jeans and shoves them and his wet underwear down.

“Shut up and fuck me,” Marin demands, wrapping her legs around his head and trying to tug him forward. He stands up, grabbing a condom out of his wallet and ripping the package open. She’s lying back on the desk, a stack of files in a disarray on the floor from where she’d knocked them earlier. She leans up and stares at his dick, lips parting as she watches him put the condom on. “Hello, pretty baby.”

“I don’t have any lube or anything,” he mutters, stroking his fingers inside her cunt. “You’re still really wet, but is it enough?”

“It’s enough.” Marin squeezes her tit and smirks at him when she notices him staring. “You want a taste?”

“Yeah,” he breathes out, leaning forward to suck on the nipple she offers him. He reaches between his legs and rubs his dick against her, feeling the condom slide across her wet lips. When he starts to push his dick inside, she wraps her legs around his waist, the silk of her stockings rubbing against his hipbones. He goes slow, knowing from experience that it’s always better when he gives his partner time to adjust.

Only, she doesn’t wait. She pushes down, taking over half his dick at once, back arching off the desk, and a ragged moan spilling from her lips as he spreads her open. She reaches for his ass, squeezing his cheeks and pulling him closer, fingernails leaving half-moon shapes on his ass. He gets the hint and stops going slow.

Instead, he picks up the pace, fucking her deep, listening to her grunts and gasps as he fucks her hard and fast. He wants number five from her before he comes, so he sucks on her nipples, rolling his hips and grinding against her clit on every downward stroke, focusing on her pleasure so he won’t come too soon. Marin tugs on his hair again, and he lets her nipple slide out of his mouth as he looks at her. She kisses him hard, lapping into his mouth as she squeezes his dick with her cunt.

It feels so damn good that he starts snapping his hips, moving more erratically, faster and faster, her fingernails scratching his back, deep enough to leave marks, the sting making him buck forward and fucking deeper inside her. She’s making noises again, the ones she can’t control, and he hopes she’s close because he can’t hold off any longer. He snaps his hips once, twice, three times before he’s shuddering, coming with a grunt and filling the condom. He keeps kissing her through his orgasm, then he’s pulling out, careful not to spill the condom, tugging it off and tying it before he’s falling to his knees again.

His tongue barely flicks out against her clit before she’s coming. Trembling on the desk, thrashing around as she rides out her fifth orgasm, and he stands back up, stroking her with his fingers as he kisses her. He keeps using his fingers on her until she finally shakes her head. “Enough,” she murmurs, blinking dazedly up at him as he pulls his fingers out.

“You know, I sat in that chair more than once thinking about what it’d be like to spread you out on your desk and make you beg for more,” he admits, sucking one finger then another. “The reality was so much better than my imagination.”

“How can you still talk?” Marin sits up and gives him an unimpressed look that’s totally ruined by the overly sated curve of her lips.

“It’s a gift.” Stiles winks at her before he steps away from the desk. His dick is soft now, flaccid against his thigh, but it twitches a little when she stares at it. “Like what you see?”

“Very much,” she says, arching a brow as she pulls her bra down and tucks her tits away. “Next time, I think I want to fuck you, though.” She smiles coyly when he stares at her. “You’ve got a great ass, Stiles. I have a feeling it’s untouched. Is it?”

“Uh, yeah.” Stiles clears his throat. “I mean, I’ve done a few things with it, and Malia used her fingers sometimes, but, uh.”

“That doesn’t count,” Marin finishes for him, sliding off the desk and pushing her skirt down. She reaches down and picks up her panties, looking at his wet underwear and smiling. “You want to wear these home? They’re not as wet as yours.”

“You want me to wear your panties?” Stiles blinks at her, dick twitching a little more at the thought of wearing silk and lace, already a little hard at the idea of Marin fucking his ass. Malia hadn’t been into that idea, and he and Lydia never reached that point in things, but it’s definitely something he wants to try. He somehow thinks Marin would fuck him good and hard.

“Merely offering.” She tosses them at him. “They’re just panties. It doesn’t harm your masculinity to wear them unless it’s so fragile that you can’t handle it.”

“I’m definitely not fragile.” Stiles rolls his eyes and kicks off his jeans and underwear. He pulls the panties on, making a face because they’re definitely too small, not doing a good job of holding his dick at all, and the back is already gathering between his ass cheeks like they’re a G-string. “At least they’re dry enough for the drive home.” He catches Marin staring at him and can’t resist doing a spin and shaking his ass to show off. “You like?”

“Very much.” Marin slaps his ass cheek hard enough to sting and smirks at him when he turns to face her. “Yes, we have quite a few things that we can explore together this summer. I have a feeling that you’re going to be a model student, aren’t you?”

“The best you’ll ever have,” Stiles promises, pulling her in for a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](http://inell.tumblr.com)


End file.
